Mocha Beans
by EdyFerrone
Summary: There's a new girl at the Lima Bean. Santana Lopez notices her soon, so much that it gets Sebastian Smythe's attention. So they bet: if Santana is really indifferent to this girl, she has got ten days to sleep with her.
1. Prologue

**Ship:** Brittany/Santana

**Rating:** NC-17/M

**Summary:** There's a new girl at the Lima Bean. Santana Lopez notices her soon, so much that it gets Sebastian Smythe's attention. So they bet: if Santana is really indifferent to this girl, she has got ten days to sleep with her.

**A/N:** Hi there! Just another story! I've already written several chapter for this and I can't wait to translate them for you – hopefully going to update twice in seven days if I can, because I'm going on a holiday then. Not very much to say besides I hope you enjoy and leave me a comment to tell me if it sucks or not! Bye 3 - xoxo

**Beta:** Haiti2013.

/

**Prologue **

Not only did the place smells like home for her but it's the place where she spends most of her time lovingly insulting those who, theoretically, are supposed to be her best friends.

It's stronger than her: Santana Lopez isn't made for sappiness and she's never going to be.

She is never going to apologize to Sebastian for everything they throw at each other when they fight, nor she's going to hug Kurt or Quinn, whispering words of affection. But one thing is sure: she really loves those crazy idiots.

Above all, she has no idea what she would do to occupy her days without them and this table (she probably would have spent her life muttering insults in Spanish on the sidewalks of Lima Heights, the filthy neighborhood where she has spent her childhood and where she still lives) . They're a bit like a drug: she knows they're dangerous to her mental health, but she can't help it.

And she is right here with them having their typical when it happens: it starts as a relatively stupid game, especially since Santana doesn't know it's going to change her life.

They are sitting at the usual table at the Lima Bean, laughing, joking and talking about silly things, rather than studying (which, in fact, is the excuse they use almost every day to meet).

In short, it's a usual day.

"We didn't even have plans for this weekend ..." Quinn sighs, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and resting her chin on one hand.

"It's Monday, Quinn." Kurt mutters, stretching his elbow to hit his boyfriend, who is dangerously leaning towards his neck. "We've got all week to make plans."

"_You-don't-understand_!"

These three words coming out of Quinn's mouth represent the point in which Santana starts losing her interest in the discussion: it's quite clear that Quinn is still drunk from last night and she's hopelessly trying to sober up the whole weekend.

Not that she despises her for having too much alcohol - she did the same too -, simply she doesn't want to appease a drunk Quinn, since she easily loses her temper when she's fucked up.

She drops her eyes on the book in front of her; her eyes focus on the history notes regarding the Revolution, but she can't really focus on it: she hasn't been drinking excessively over the weekend but still feels tired and nervous, so much that she has to re-read the same sentence four times before it starts to make any sense in her head.

"I need another coffee ..." She moans, attracting the eyes of the trio on herself.

"Are you okay, Santana?" Kurt asks, blinking as to analyze her (Kurt is the most thoughtful person in the group and he's always worried about everything and everyone).

Sebastian, beside him, giggles.

"Yeah, Carmen San Diego: If you get bags under your eyes, even that your plastic boobs won't distract people from your little face, prematurely consumed from the night life."

Sebastian gets another hit from Kurt and, if she had the strength to, Santana would stretch to slap Quinn who is laughing heartily.

"Stop it." She mumbles, taking a look around: she is looking for a waiter, or someone who can bring her damn coffee to her, because she doesn't have the strength to stand up and reach the counter.

"You look bad, really." Kurt insists, while Quinn nods with her eyebrows lifted (she probably doesn't understand anything going on). "I wouldn't want to call an ambulance."

Santana immediately shakes her head: she's from Lima Heights, she can surely handle some tiredness.

She doesn't give up at the first attempt and, resting her head on her arm, she begins to snap her fingers in the air: she has a physical need of coffee and has no intention of giving up on it.

Her fingers snap continuously and stop only when she hears footsteps getting closer.

When that unknown body stands beside her, Santana doesn't even look up before she's speaking.

"Por favor, can I have a coffee?" She asks, relaxing her temples against her arm resting on the table (if she thinks about it, in fact, it probably isn't a good show for anybody who is looking at her).

"What can I get you?"

This voice, however, manages to get her attention, just when Santana is thinking she could keep her head resting on the table forever: it's a female voice, not too sharp, indeed, there is a depth in that tone, something low and warm, but that seems also strangely pleasant and not at all intrusive.

She doesn't even manage to wonder if it's possible to resist the temptation to check who might own a voice like that; she is already raising her gaze.

She doesn't realize now how much this misstep can be fatal, but she understands, however, that there is something wrong.

She knows it since the moment she realizes that she has stopped breathing, lost in contemplation of this wonderful hypnotic blue she's staring into.

The girl in front of her - an angel descended on earth, certainly - is smiling spontaneously and sweetly (one of those smiles that are able to warm you deep down in your soul). She wishes she has the right words to comment on this vision within her head, but the truth is that, as she runs with her eyes that smooth blond hair, Santana Lopez has forgotten any existing word, in both English and Spanish.

She has lost the ability to speak momentarily, which becomes a problem because the angel is still waiting for her order which, however, is slow to come.

"I know you!" Quinn's shrill voice makes her jump, she's awakened from the spell against her will (it's a strangely pleasant vision, so she sort of hate the interruption?).

She turns for a few seconds towards Quinn, beginning to fear that alcohol would make her say something terribly stupid.

"Then you must have hit something with your face because I don't really remember you..."

The words uttered by this girl would usually sound extremely unpleasant and annoying, but there's something sweet and innocent in her voice that makes them sound kind instead.

Santana is still trying to understand if she is serious or not, when her eyes begin to wander over her body.

"You're Brittany Pierce," Quinn says while Santana's eyes stop on a soft scarf wrapped around her probably pale neck, too easy to mark and on which signs remain for days, "the cheerleader who didn't wear panties at Nationals!"

Santana instinctively swallows as her eyes trace the shape of the girl's chest covered by a tight white t-shirt and the Lima Bean apron.

"I couldn't pick out which to use to celebrate," Brittany shrugs – Santana has already learned her name – way too serious for the explanation she's giving, "So I thought that choosing might have created some sort of conflict into my drawer and … I don't want it to happen. I love all my panties equally."

Santana really wants to focus on whatever she's saying but her eyes are tracing those hips that perfectly fit the rest of her body …

"I'm waiting for your order …" Brittany gets her attention though, making her startle once again.

Of course.

The order.

Coffee.

"Simple with one spoon of sugar is going to be just fine." She whispers without even realize she's smirking.

Sebastian's fake cough though makes her shake her head, just in time to see Brittany Pierce walk away and disappear between the tables.

Something had just happened.

Santana can feel that it had: it had been a delicious encounter, and she's already drooling over the idea of this girl as her gaze goes down on her modeled ass right on the triumph of gorgeous long legs. This angel has just walked away as Santana's grin turns into a devilish smirk.

"Aww, look at her. The hottest bitch in Lima with heart eyes on." Sebastian jokes. "It seems like you've just seen a rainbow."

Santana's face doesn't shift, not even at these words, and not just because she's used to Sebastian's annoying joke, but also because her mind is still too focused on these muscled asscheeks walking by: she could paint them and she's sure it would be a masterpiece of those you stare at for hours without ever getting bored.

Not to mention the rest of her body.

"I didn't know she worked here." Quinn is talking again, looking apparently more sober, just because she can't really give up on some good gossip, can she? "I didn't even know she worked, actually …"

"What about high school?" Kurt asks, turning to Quinn as Sebastian and Santana roll their eyes, already knowing what's coming. When they want to, they can be such gossipers at times.

"Maybe she wasn't smart enough." Sebastian comments, unable to keep the ironic comment. "Why should she waste time on high school then?"

Santana immediately tighten her eyelids, throwing daggers at him with her eyes.

"She can't be stupid. If she is, well, congrats: she's got a job and we haven't." She complains, making Sebastian wince the word 'job'.

"You're already defending her?" He suggests, ironically. "When's the wedding, Mrs. Lopez-Pierce?"

"I'm never going to be Mrs. Someone," Santana says immediately, "So Kurt, would you mind throwing all those terrible wedding magazines you keep in your garage to choose my wedding dress? I'm never going to get married and, mainly, I won't let you choose my dress."

There are a few moments of silence at the table. Kurt's wrinkling his lips, offended, Quinn is enjoying the scene and Sebastian looks completely indifferent.

"And I'm not defending her." Santana eventually whines, relaxing against the back of the chair and crossing her arms under her breasts. "I've just said what I honestly think. If she were stupid, she wouldn't work here. She must be careful at her customers all the time, so she's clearly smart."

"Well,you aredefending here a little …" Quinn suggests and Santana would want to tell her that it's impossiblenotto defend an angel like that. But she doesn't reply: she's Santana Lopez, she doesn't defend, she doesn't court.

She's a hunter ready to eat her preys with no hesitation.

Santana Lopez hunts for sex and nothing more.

That's why she doesn't reply to Quinn the way she wanted to. She has a fame to keep up, even in the little daily affairs.

Just then she realizes that everything is silent around her. As she tries to understand why everybody is looking over her shoulders, a paper cup is put in front of her, right before her eyes.

Almost in slow motion, Santana studies the pale long fingers that carry it. Her brain is suddenly filled with nasty images of these fingers and she has to bite her lower lip as she pictures the fantasy.

Then her eyes run along the arm suspended beside her until she's looking at her face.

"Here's your coffee."

She finds herself staring at these light blue eyes again and she's not breathing anymore: it sounds crazy to her, but she's almost forgot this girl's gorgeous ass to focus on her innocent glare that warms her chest.

She shakes her head and tries not to think about it.

_That's not who you are, Santana_, she thinks to herself, _You just have to focus on the target. Which target though?_

She realizes that her mind is working faster than she actually is, already starting to give her order about what to do with Brittany: pursuing her.

Although when she comes back to reality, after that fast flash of thoughts, she realizes that Brittany isn't there anymore: she's gone without even giving Santana the chance to thank her – not that Santana _wants_ to that her though, she really doesn't do it, not really. Before she can notice, she' already looking around, staring around the Lima Bean to find her ey-ass, her ass.

Sebastian hesitates for a moment than coughs again, getting the attention of Santana's eyes on him.

"What's wrong?" Santana asks nervously but when she notices that everybody at the table is looking at her, than she thinks she _must_ have done something weird (if Quinn noticed it must be serious, since she is completely drunk).

"What's wrong?" Sebastian parrots her voice ironically, "Do you actually realize that even a stupid blonde chick working would notice the way you're searching for her gaze around here? So romantic …" He comments sarcastically as he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms to his chest.

"Sebastian, don't call her stupid." Quinn murmurs, wrinkling her lips and eyebrows. "That's not cute!"

"Oh c'mon." Santana replies immediately, throwing daggers at Sebastian with her eyes. "As if Sebastian knows how to act decently towards other human beings; And oh, Seb, since you clearly know how it works, you must have notice that I was staring at her ass. You probably didn't because you're gayer than Perez Hilton, but it was worth a look."

Sebastian doesn't look convinced at her words, so much he's still wearing a smirk on his lips, looking quite sure about himself.

"So … you weren't searching for a wonderful pair of blue eyes shining bright like the sky?" He asks, shrugging. "Because, just in case … I might know how it feels, if you wanted to talk about-"

"No way." Santana replies immediately, finally grabbing the cup in her hands. "I wasn't searching for some stupid eyes, I never did and I never will. Her eyes are seriously the last thing I'm interest into about a girl, even less if it's a girl like Brittany who has dumped high school to work here, who knows why."

"Maybe she's got familiar issues …" Kurt suggests but he gets ignored (whenever Sebastian and Santana fight, the rest of the world just disappears and they just go on for hours, neither of them wanting to admit the other might be right).

"So … just a fine ass?" Sebastian asks again, watching as Santana nods. "Hmm …" He thinks, turning for a few seconds to stare at Kurt sitting beside him (Santana really doesn't want to think that he's comparing Kurt to Brittany into his mind; only Sebastian could think of such a stupid thing). "Well, since it has nothing to do with her eyes, how about a bet?"

Santana lifts his eyebrow while Quinn and Kurt just look at each other in panic: whenever they bet, one of them gets seriously hurt.

"I'm listening." Santana answers, but it sounds suspiciously as _I'm in_ already.

"Let's do this: you've got ten days to screw her." He says, wearing the smirk on his lips and Santana giggles smugly.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine, Smythe. Get ready to lose another bet."

She can't even believe that Sebastian is so stupid to propose this: he should know how easy it gets to just hook up without any worry at all, especially with such a tempting prey as Brittany. It's the most stupid bet they've ever done, so much she can't even believe it. There must be something behind it, that's for sure.

"What if I don't?" Santana asks, lifting an eyebrow, but Sebastian shakes his head lightly.

"No problems." Sebastian sighs, as if he's bored with the question or the fact that Santana doesn't trust him. "That's it. Nothing on it."

"You're bluffing." Santana complains, tightening her eyelids and putting his coffee to his lips. "I'm not this stupid. That would be too easy for me."

"Prove it then." Sebastian says and Santana nods, starting to drink. Maybe he's sort of using reverse psychology to confuse her and make her doubt about herself.

"I will." She mutters, putting the cup on the table. "Ten days, Smythe. Ten days and she'll be mine."

Sebastian nods, acting like he agrees, while Santana is starting to explore the Lima Bean with her eyes again: she feels like she's hunting, she is ready to go and she knows that like every single time, she won't fail.

She's going to get her hands on Brittany Pierce.

6


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long! Hope you enjoy the update and there's a Hogwarts!Brittana shot coming :3 (10,000 words). Thank you for your patience!

**Beta:** Haiti2013.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The day after the talk, Santana is already sitting back at the table, pretending that she is paying attention on her science notes, while her mind is focusing on something else: _Day One of Ten_, exploration.

Her eyes wander around the Lima Bean, with discretion, searching for the girl, _Brittany_. Her target.

She has been sitting here for an hour now, but the day hasn't been productive. The main reason why it was bothering her is because she wasted all yesterday night thinking about what might be the right way to flirt, what kind of girl Brittany might actually be once you got to know her. Being a predator, Santana knows perfectly well that every prey has her story. She has to act differently with every one of them, so that she won't fail.

Not that she thinks she might actually fail: even if the strategy is doubtful, Santana is sure she's too sexy to be ditched. Anyway, she's also classy and won't go for simple seduction.

This is the main difference between Sebastian and her: Sebastian – at least before he turned suddenly into the perfect boyfriend – always used his charm only to get into someone's pants; a smirk, a gaze, or something along those lines.

Santana isn't like that at all.

She's sure that such a boring repetitive process makes the hunt boring and she doesn't do boring, so she does whatever it takes to make it more interesting. It also makes it a little tougher, but it's okay because smirking and fucking gets dreary after a while and it makes all of her longing disappear (which is surprising, because Santana never gets tired of sex). Since Brittany looks like a pretty good gift she could make to herself, Santana wants to enjoy it.

It's been a long time since she has felt so attracted to girl, so she wants to take the chance before it slips through her fingers.

The problem, right now, is that Brittney isn't here.

She keeps looking around, but she can't really see it. And yet, she's seen her wearing a Lima Bean apron, so there's no doubt she works here. What if she's been fired already? It wouldn't be too surprising: she doesn't look like she's very smart so, maybe, she fucked up.

Santana's biggest problem is that she knows Sebastian won't give up on the bet even at this eventual condition: in fact he would take advantage of the situation to add some weird crazy clause to make everything so complicated that Santana would be force to search into Brittany's _private_ life to get in contact with her and win this bet.

In the right moment when the thought starts become realer and realer into her mind and Santana thinks – even if vaguely and not for real – to give up on the bet for once, she hears a familiar voice behind her back.

"But _it was raining_. I couldn't go out. It was raining and there was the sun. I must wait for the rainbow, it never happens here!"

Santana turns, her eyebrows already arched at the scene: a boy who must be the owner of the shop or just the other waiter who was waiting for her and the shift, is standing with his arms crossed to his chest in front of the girl who's trying to defend herself, not too angry nor focused. The words come out relaxed from his mouth.

"Pierce, this is serious." The boy says. "If you don't take your work seriously and make fun of us like this, maybe we should think there are people who care about this job more than you do."

The girl winces sadly, her arms leaning at the sides of her body. No sign into her body proves that she's taken the words seriously, like she doesn't even understand the indirect warning the boy is giving her.

Right now, the tones of the conversation are still low, so they haven't gotten the attention of anybody else in the room, expect for Santana, who is sitting quite closely.

"I care about this job." Brittany fights back, wrinkling her lips adorably. "Where can I find another place who gives me such a pretty apron? I wouldn't exchange my job with any other job in the world. Except from being a celebrity … but I should shoot a sex tape to get famous, so …"

Santana lifts her eyebrows in surprise and her gaze wanders to the annoyed look on the boy's face.

"Are you kidding me?" He asks, trying to keep his voice down. "If you're here for a stupid apron, you can pay me and I'll give you one, but you can't just come to work whenever you feel like it."

The girl crosses arms to her chest, starting to look annoyed at the words, like the boy is the one who just can't understand the awesomeness and the importance of a rainbow.

"I didn't want to be late. I was waiting for the rainbow and I didn't realize what time it was."

Santana turns a little more than, starting to wonder if she is hearing correctly: she doesn't know if Brittany is using the first excuse that came to her mind, even if it sounds stupid, or if the girl is just making fun of her co-worker. She has to admit it, she's weirdly attracted to her world, and she would want to understand what happens inside Brittany's mind.

No, she remembers. No way, Santana, just stop. You can't be curious. You only have one mission. Don't waste any time on useless details.

"Well, next time you plan on waiting for the rainbow to show up, put on an alarm to remind yourself that you have a job!" The boy's voice sounds now frustrated and higher. They get some people's attention, so he eventually walks away from Brittany, leaving her standing there, alone in the middle of the Lima Bean.

Santana stares at her, she stares at the way her hands are closing into fists at the sides of her body. She watches as Brittany bites her lower lip and thinks that maybe she's keeping herself up, not willing to explode in front of everybody. She doesn't look like she's an angry person, so maybe she's just keeping from crying.

Santana remains there though, sitting, because even though she wants to complete her mission and win the bet the soonest she can, she isn't stupid and she know that this isn't really the right time for flirts. If she bothers her with unwanted advances, there's a chance that she might get unbearable in Brittany's eyes, which is something that she really doesn't want. It would make her lose days to make herself be judged differently.

She watches while Brittany walks away, towards the room in which they employees probably change when they start working.

Santana waits patiently as minutes go by and she can't help but imagine her sitting into a dark tight closet, her knees again her chest and tears filling those wonderful blue eyes …

_Ass_. Santana reminds herself. _Think about her ass_. She repeats herself, trying to push the image out of her mind, not only because it's out of place for her standards, but also because somehow, it makes her sad to imagine that scene.

She spends minutes looking at the boy who is waiting for the shift and, finally, just when she's considering the idea of going away and letting it go for today, the gorgeous little angel appears in front of her: white t-shirt, dark apron, little hat and hair gathered into a ponytail. She has a notebook in her hands and – Santana hates to realize it – her eyes are shining dimly and wet.

"Can I help you?" She asks, her voice sounding a little weak, a detail that makes Santana wonder if Brittany is one of those people that can't pretend, even if they try. Then she thinks back at the conversation with the guy and comes to the conclusion that, maybe, Brittany doesn't even try and pretend.

Her gaze examine the European features of her face and Santana says to herself that his normal eventually, that she's just studying her prey physically. There's nothing wrong or weird with that. It's just an objective contemplation of beauty.

"Suggest something." Santana tries to keep her voice from sounding too allusive. _Not today, Santana, not today._

"Suggest?" Brittany asks, arching her eyebrows and playing with the pen in her hands. Santana's gaze is immediately attracted by her long pale fingers, perfect and attractive as much as her, so much that they almost make her mind lose into dirty thoughts at the sight only. "You come here every day, why would you need suggestions?"

Santana immediately winces as her face turns into a confused grimace: she tries not to let it show, but how can she? She thought Brittany has been working here for days, nothing more than that. So how does she now Santana is a daily costumer?

"Is it written on my forehead?" She asks then, trying to look natural in the conversation and not to show her confusion.

"No, there's nothing written on your forehead. Should there be?" Brittany asks, wrinkling her lips. "I did write stuff on my forehead too, until I found out it could seriously damage your skin. I mean, with the ink and everything … well, I thought I could simply use those tattoos that magically disappear after some time."

Santana is only getting more confused at her words, because she can't believe that she doesn't even _understand_ what Brittany is talking about.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant." She says then, shifting a little on the chair and trying to explain. "I meant … do I look like someone who comes here often? How do you know I'm always here, everyday?"

"Oh!" Brittany comments, her face bright with a shining smile that almost blinds Santana and that weirdly warms her heart at the innocent spontaneity it has formed with, "Well, I've attended this place for long and I do remember the other students coming her. I've always stared at you …" She suddenly stops, rolling her eyes like a baby girl who has just almost confessed she's been stealing chocolates from the shelves.

Santana rejoices silently into her head: if Brittany has already stared at her, this means that she is at least a little attracted by her already. That's a nice score she wants to confirm fast.

"Did you stare at me?" She asks, unable to keep a smirk this time.

"Yup." Brittany answers, looking down at the floor for a few seconds and Santana is already about to bump herself up when Brittany adds: "I was staring at your boobs. I mean, I was trying to understand if they're made of plastic or party balloons. I sketched a theory on my notebook, but I'm not sure it came out as I wanted. It didn't make it clearer in my head, so."

Santana is confused.

She has no idea how she is supposed to read into these words, if must think this means that Brittany has been staring her body so maybe she should be happy about it, or wondering about the weird things that come out of her mouth.

"So … are you planning on ordering?" Brittany asks, but Santana doesn't want to change the topic so soon.

"No, hey, wait." She says then, looking into Brittany's eyes (eyes, those eyes she should avoid). "Were you like … analyzing me?" She asks, but she doesn't even know if this is the right way to put it.

"Yep! You and your friends." Brittany answers, grinning. "They're cute, I like them a lot. You look like an awesome flock, but … - she stops for a few seconds – my employer always says I shouldn't talk about these things with costumers because it's not cute of me to tell them I stare. He says one is supposed to feel at ease in this place, that's why he doesn't talk about the cameras hanging in the corners."

She sees as Brittany winces, like she's realized she said something she shouldn't have said. She isn't stupid. The fact that she realizes proves that she isn't stupid.

"So … you analyze costumers?" Santana asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't think that's cool. Just think about how they might feel. There's no really need for cameras, you're spying on us all the time." She notices but Brittany shrugs little.

"I'll get you some mocha?" She asks and Santana wears a confused face.

"Excuse me?"

"Mocha. That's your order, right?"

Santana stays with her mouth and eyes wide open: she spies on the customers, so much she knows her order. That's creepy and obsessive, but if she thinks about it reasonably, that allows her to be quite good at her job. Well, it would have allowed her to do so, if she came in time instead of staring at the rainbow.

"Mocha is going to be just fine." Santana murmurs, still a little shaken.

"Cream?" Brittany asks, writing on her notebook (why the hell does she even write if she already knows everything?).

Santana just nods with a smile on her lips and as soon as Brittany turns, she looks down on her perfect asscheeks, their shape visible through her tight jeans as she licks her lips subconsciously.

It's weird but whenever Brittany walks away, she feels better: the fact that Santana can finally run from those eyes which make such a strange effect on her makes her more at ease; she doesn't feel under examination anymore, but she feels as sure about herself as she has always been. The stunned expression at Brittany's awkward words comes to be replaced by a hungry smirk and Santana feels more comfortable.

She relaxes against the back of the chair, patiently waiting for Brittany to come back. She thinks about what to say and not only for a strategy: talking to Brittany seems more complicated than she thought it would have been, because she never knows what to expect from her. She has no idea what she might say, it's a mystery, and she can't understand her ways of thinking. And yet, Brittany doesn't look like she is stupid: she's _strange_, of course she is, but there's something in her words that seems to come from thinking.

She doesn't wait too long because not even three minutes later, the girl is newly in front of her and she's handing her a coffee, putting it on the table. Besides for delays and rainbows, it looks like she knows how to do her job, even though Santana hasn't everything clear in her mind, the reasons that have pushed her to get a job when being so young. Maybe her family has economic issues and she needs to help.

"_Gracias_." She says and smiles a little tempting, whispering the word in Spanish that would have made any man or woman melt at the sound.

Surprisingly, Brittany doesn't seem to get the nastiness of it. In fact, she smiles spontaneously and half-bows to her.

"You're welcome. It's just my duty." Brittany says eventually, before she walks away, so that Santana can't really get clearer and flirtier with her words.

Like every single time, Santana turns, following her ass with her own eyes. A girl like this, wearing tight jeans like that can't be unobvious to the concept of nastiness. She must be nasty enough to wear it with such grace.

She shakes her head to herself as a new idea starts building up in her brain: maybe Brittany isn't how it seems. Maybe she caught Santana's flirt and understands that Santana wanted something more. She's acting like this to make her give up on the goal, maybe.

Well, in that case it would her loss.

But yet, she isn't sure about this theory. If Brittany is just acting, would she do that so to risk her job? Because that's what she did with the other employee if Santana's idea is correct.

It doesn't make a lot of sense.

She has no idea what to think about it, not even as she drinks coffee which she hopes can help her focus.

It was just a weird first meeting and Santana isn't sure how to read into it. She doesn't even know if it felt positive or negative and, considering the way she sees it, the way she has always won … this looks like a terrible defeat.

She's suddenly more scared at the idea of losing a bet with Sebastian and a soft note of insecurity throbs into her, a new unknown sensation that he doesn't know how to read into and how to defeat.

For the first time, she is completely shocked from a human being, confused at what the body language of the girl must mean at every word or gesture coming from Santana.

For the first time, she doesn't know what to do.

/

"Someone doesn't look so happy."

Sebastian's annoying voice pulls her out of these thoughts filling her mind all day and that didn't leave her, not even for a second.

She wrinkles her nose and arches her eyebrows, one of the instinctive grimaces she can't keep whenever Sebastian opens his mouth. That time though, for some reasons, she thinks he's not trying to make her worse only.

"Have you been at the Lima Bean today?" He asks, as Quinn giggles, sitting on the lawn between Santana and Sebastian who is holding Kurt with his back on his own crotch.

"Are you spying on me or what?" Santana asks, arms leant behind and hands through the grass. "Don't you have better things to do?"

Sebastian shrugs lightly and Santana rolls her eyes.

"How did it go?" Sebastian asks while Kurt slowly falls asleep into his arms, looking a lot less interested than Quinn.

"Amazingly." She murmurs, clearly irritate and uneasy to believe to. "Winning this fucking bet is going to be so easy you'll regret that you didn't put anything on the line, believe me."

Sebastian smiles smugly, like he wants her to understand that he doesn't believe a single word she says.

"Of course." He confirms sarcastically. "I guess you already made a lot of progress, like getting her number, adding her on socials, maybe you already have a date. I'm listening."

Kurt whimpers in his sleep and Sebastian rolls his eyes, really unwillingly to lower his voice to make him sleep better, not tight now when he has the chance to mock Santana over her momentarily failure. It's too evident not to laugh at it.

Santana knows she is giving him the right chance so that he can take advantage of it, but she is still confused with what today has been, searching for a strategy and she has no intention to waste her mental energies to answer to this jerk or defend herself from whatever he says. It does matter anyway, because, after these infamous ten days, Sebastian is going to regret that he has doubted of her seductive ways (Santana hates a voice in her head that murmurs a soft _Maybe_ because she has never doubted herself before and this isn't the moment she's going to start doing it – well, maybe she did when she found out about her sexuality but that's not the same thing, is it?).

"Working on it slowly." She complains then, crossing her arms to her chest. "We can't all be like you, Sebastian. You just pay for a lame drink until the victim is drunk enough to let you fuck him. Or to fuck you."

Kurt groans in his sleep and Quinn giggles again, as Sebastian starts brushing his boyfriend's soft hair.

"Shhh. He is so sensible at the topic. Let's not talk about the past." He comments and then it's Quinn replying, still laughing lowly.

"Did you talk to her?" She asks, more interested with an honest answer than Sebastian, who just wanted to make fun of her.

Santana nods, turning towards him with a less annoyed face.

"She's … weird. She says weird stuff and I can't really understand her ways of thinking. I'm sure she's a very particular vision of the world, but this doesn't really help me figuring out how to get into her mind better."

Quinn looks thoughtful, looking worried to help her, just like Sebastian didn't.

"Well, maybe you'll get to know her better by talking to her. It's not really easy to understand a person from one talk to order a coffee or whatever it was, you know?"

Santana thinks about one thing for a moment: she could tell her friends that Brittany already knew what she wanted to order because she enjoys spying on them. However, something inside her head tells her that it's not such a good idea talking about it.

The thought confuses her immediately though: she has never been the kind of person that wonders too much before talking about people, even her preys. But there is something about this Brittany girl, the way she acts, so innocent that it makes her believe that if she says this to someone, she's going to expose her fragility in front of other people.

Plus, Santana isn't really sure when she started thinking Brittany was special, neither why she cares about her fragility. It's just a curious instinct she has never felt before and she wants to follow it, simply because she really doesn't want to have to listen to Sebastian's stupid jokes about it if she tells.

"Honestly, I'm really hopeful. The things itself that she has stood by me more than she was supposed to means that she thinks I'm interesting at least. I didn't even start flirting." She notices, lifting an eyebrow to wear her usual arrogant mask, the one that allows her to hide her new unbelievable insecurity.

It seems like it's working quite well thought because no one complains. It's probably because Sebastian is too busy with his boyfriend and Quinn isn't as snarky as he is, not at all, so she doesn't feel like bothering her. Even she _is_ noticing her insecurity, she's not going to point it out instead.

"I really hope you win." She comments instead, wearing a smile. "I love it that Sebastian is so disappointed whenever you do. It almost makes my humor better."

"Girl." Sebastian scolds immediately. "You don't have to be jealous because I've got a pair of wonderful blue eyes to stare into."

The moment he pronounces these words, he winks at Santana. It's one of those things which means nothing at everything all at once, exactly the kind of things that Santana hates because, especially now, they don't make it any clearer for her. They just make everything more confused.

When she understands exactly what it means but it's too late: her mind has translated the words quickly and Santana is now imagining a pair of wonderful sapphires. She realizes soon that it's _her_ eyes and she can't from shaking her head.

Luckily for her, Sebastian has already gazed away to focus on Kurt, so she doesn't need to defend herself from any accusation.

While Quinn lays back on the lawn, Santana rolls her eyes to the dark sky, pushing for this awkward sensation to wash off of her body, the butterflies swinging in her stomach, to think about something different. When she surrenders because nothing seems capable of replacing those eyes, she decides to think about the only weapon that has worked this very moment: a gorgeous ass.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Day two.

When she wakes up, Santana feels a little different.

It could be for different reasons actually, but she's starting to think it's about one thing only; the way yesterday tore her out without her even doing something tiring. It must be her.

Santana hates the way this unbelievable new instinct is taking over her in so little time.

It's not like she feels totally insecure, but she's hesitating more than she would usually do and she isn't used to it.

She is rolling under the sheets, trying not to think about the confident smirk on Sebastian's face, like he's already won this. It makes her anxious now that she feels like there's something different. Usually, she doesn't worry about anything because she already knows for sure that she is going to win. This time is different and she has no idea if this is just some stupid worry or it actually makes sense.

The only thing she knows is that, after the lessons, she is going to go to the Lima Bean, hoping that she's going to get a better chance to get closer to Brittany than yesterday and not only to give Brittany her order. She needs to move some steps towards her because, all of a sudden, nine days seem too little and minutes seem to run faster, just like hours do.

She won't allow someone to mock her. It doesn't matter how worried she gets, how much it seems that this is not going to be that easy like the other times, Santana still believes she can do this. All she has to do is make it faster, just to be sure.

This is why, when she throws the sheets away and puts her bare feet on the pavement of her room, Santana is sure about two things (or maybe she just pretends she is).

Firstly, she is going to have a different coffee today. No mocha for her because she wants to impress Brittany: people who do the same things everyday hardly impress someone, and she needs to do just that.

And then, she is going to find a way to get better in touch with her: phone number, Skype, something that she can show to Sebastian to hush him for one night at least, so she's going to feel less anxious and she won't think about stupid stuff like the charm of those blue eyes.

Also, she is going to stare so much at her, drinking her with her eyes, that Brittany is going to feel naked in front of her, she's going to notice and stutter senselessly. And Santana is going to flirt then.

It looks like it's going to be an awesome day.

/

When she sits at the Lima Bean table today, she suddenly has an abrupt doubt. She has planned everything feeling sure that Brittany is going to work today, but she isn't sure about it anymore. Beside the fact that she seems to be late, Brittany worked yesterday and Santana doesn't know if she has daily shifts. Maybe it's alternate days or some shit like that which is awful: it's going to make her lose _days_ over this bet (she is going to win anyway, of course, she knows; _You __**always **__win, Diabla_, she thinks to herself).

She spends almost twenty minutes fighting the spontaneous anxiety and trying to set up for the tranquility she wants to force, before she finally notices Brittany moving through the tables, with her notebook in her hands. Instinctively, she looks to the light tight jeans that bend her ass perfectly. It looks like it's done to be squeezed, and she sighs in relief subconsciously. At least her day isn't wasted.

The awareness that comes with it gives her the strength to wait for the girl to come to her. She doesn't have to wait too much, six or seven minutes, and then Brittany is standing in front of her, with a smile on her face and a pen on her notebook.

"Mocha?" She asks naturally and Santana shakes her head.

Her plan starts now.

"Well, let's say I want to try something different today. How about you tell me '_Hi, how are you doing_?' first?" She asks, winking in suggestion and Brittany shakes her head, looking down at the paper with a serious expression slowly replacing her wonderful smile. Santana thinks Brittany looks down when she does something wrong and she feels guilty about it.

"I can't," She says indeed, immediately, wrinkling her lips, probably subconsciously. "The boss said that if he finds me chatting to customers again, I'll get fired. He says I make everything slow, and I can't understand. Why would you have a coffee if you don't have someone to share it with? I always talk to customers who are alone."

Santana arches an eyebrow. She isn't sure about what she actually thinks. Does Brittany think she can stop and talk to her customers while she works? Does she really do that because she is afraid they might be bored? If that's the truth, well … that's a really _sweet_ thing to do.

Santana shakes her head immediately.

The word _sweet_ doesn't suit her.

"Maybe I could wait." She replies instead, trying to show an innocent smile to Brittany. It isn't that innocent, but she's sure that Brittany won't notice. "I've got a lot of stuff to study for the test tomorrow, so I would like getting a few coffees to keep me awake. When you're done working, I might be here still, and then we could chat a little."

"Why do you want to chat with me?" Brittany asks, and Santana can't believe she doesn't even catch a little of her flirty attitude towards her. It seems pretty evident in Santana's eyes, more than she wanted to actually show yesterday.

"Don't you want to?" She asks then, shrugging, because maybe all that Brittany needs is for the conversation to sound normal, just like when she is talking to other customers.

"That's not it. It's just a little weird. We don't even know each other. I'm usually the one who bores people with my chatting. They never ask me to." She answers, shrugging lightly. "But I think I can do it after I'm done working. Tubbs doesn't need me tonight and I end up before the Lima Bean closes tonight, so I can stay a little."

Santana looks confused, while she tries to understand who Brittany is talking about. She has no idea what sort of name Tubbs is, what it stands for. Maybe it's her little brother's nickname or something.

"Bien," she just answers, her Spanish accent sounding seducing at the mere word, "I'll wait for you here when you're done."

"Are you going to tell me which kind of coffee you want? You said coffee might help you!" Brittany says and there's something honest in her voice like she really wants to support _Santana_ with her studies. A spontaneous and enjoyable interest, Santana would say.

"Well, we can play a game." She answers, a sudden idea forming in her head. "Why don't you try and find a kind of coffee that I like more than mocha? So you can prove how good you are at understanding customers, since I haven't had a different order in years."

"Hmm," Brittany considers, putting her pen against her temple and looking at the ceiling for a moment, "_Melya?"_ she asks, a proud smile on her face. "I don't know what kind of person you are yet, so …"

"What is it made of?" Santana asks and the answer is so automatic than Brittany sounds like a vocal menu.

"A coffee mixed with one teaspoon of unsweetened powdered cocoa and drizzled honey."

She giggles, imagining how long it might have taken her to learn the orders like this. She puts a hand in front of her mouth to cover it, so that she doesn't seem too unkind. When she stops laughing, she nods. She doesn't think about the fact that she isn't used to giggle like this.

"Okay, let's give this Melcia a try." She smiles.

"It's _Melya_!" Brittany complains, wrinkling her lips.

"It's a very sweet order though," Santana says allusive, unable to let it slide, especially when Brittany is wearing such a lovely funny expression, "as sweet as you are."

She hoped the girl would blush or something, but instead, she just smiles and half-bows in front of her before she's walking to the counter and giving the orders. And then she's buzzing around the room again.

While Santana follows every single movement of her body – mostly to stare at her ass -, all she can think of is that this girl is able to confuse her somehow. She has no idea how she's going to react and she's usually pretty good at anticipating other girls' behaviors. Brittany surprises her and Santana has no idea whether this is positive or not. It's surely a stirring to do better and it makes her more interested in her prey, but she can't deny that it also worries her somehow, even if it's just about the bet that she isn't ready to lose to Sebastian.

She lets the thought drop when a few moments later, a wonderful long-fingered hand (just like she noticed yesterday) leans in front of her to put a cup in front of her. Brittany whispers a soft '_Here's to you_' before she's gone again.

Santana sighs and she finally turns to get the books from the bag hanging on the back of the chair.

She puts them on the table too and opens to find the pages she's got her bookmarks on (different colors for different chapters). While she keeps her eyes focused on the pages, she leans a curious hand towards the drink Brittany brought her. She grabs it superficially, maybe because she doesn't want to admit to herself how anxious she is to try it, and then she pushes it to her lips. She barely presses her mouth along the borders, turning the pages to calculate the approximate time she's going to need as she slowly declines the cup.

As soon as the flavor hits her mouth, the immediate sensation that comes with it – no matter how pleasant it is – it's that this coffee's way too sweet for her. Maybe Brittany is too.

But somehow she also thinks that to reject the coffee order that girl's chosen for her is a terrible way to start working on her the way she wants. She has to play the pretty part, so she lifts the cup and drinks it all in one long sip. The coffee would have been good, but the unsweetened cocoa is the worst thing ever. Plus, the honey is what forces her to wince in disgust. It's dense, sticky and ultra-sweet and it goes down into her throat and spreads inside her mouth, making her grimace even bigger.

She tries to push the sensation away and swallows it all down, putting the cup on the table. Showing Brittany that she has drunk all from the coffee she chose for her might be a good way to get friendlier with her.

She goes back to her book, focusing on it completely and trying to lift her gaze every time she feels like Brittany and her ass are passing by. No matter how much she cares about the bet and making out with a hot girl, her school grades are still important to her.

This biology test is essential because even if her score is high in general, she wants to humiliate Smythe in his own winning field. Yeah, they always fight and challenge each other in everything, and Santana can only imagine how much Quinn and Kurt make silent fun of them every single time. But this is sort of the balance in their group, so they won't stop doing it.

After she's organized a way to divide the paragraphs and analysis so that she can manage to do everything, she starts reading the first of the three infernal chapters about breathing phases (this book is way too detailed for high school, she's _sure_ of it, especially for _public_ high school), trying to remember as much as she can, gathering the topic into her head. Time starts to fly then, while words repeat – sometimes softly, sometimes into her head. An hour has gone by when Brittany shows up in front of her, her notebook proudly held between her fingers.

Santana lets her gaze run all over Brittany's body until she is looking into these ice-eyes that seem able to paralyze people, and yet they're sweet and innocent at the same time.

"So?" She asks and Santana immediately winces in confusion.

"So what?" She asks back, staring as Brittany leans a pen on the paper.

"I thought you were waiting for backups and I've wondered if one hour is enough for you to have another coffee." Brittany says, shrugging lightly. "Lord Tubbington says that drinking too many coffees in short times might be bad and I didn't want it to hurt you, so I stared at the clock until the arm completed its rotation, and I thought it was enough."

Santana smiles, maybe she even giggles, as she blinks; she's partly confused at her behavior, but she's also partly amused. The fact that she worried about her might be a positive thing, like Brittany cares about her. And yet, she's not really sure who this mysterious Lord Tubbington or Tubbs is.

"Well, yeah. I'd say it's about time to take advantage of the nectar." She laughs, shrugging. "What's your advice this time? I'd say I'm still on for Mocha for now, even though that … Melcia thing was kinda good."

"Melya!" Brittany complains immediately as she shakes her head. "What about Cafe Latte?"

"Hmm, that's simple but cool. Trying won't hurt me." Santana says, a bright smile appearing on her face.

"Okay, I'll be back in a moment," Brittany answers, walking away in a beat.

Santana immediately feels like Brittany is enjoying this game and that makes her giggle spontaneously. Okay, maybe she would just have to admit that this is funny.

She lets her go, now sure that she'll come back to her quite soon. She focuses on the paragraphs again. This time, while she repeats, she finds herself smiling as she thinks of Brittany's happy face while she tries to figure out coffee orders for her, just in case. It's stupid, Santana knows, but it's still amusing somehow. She relaxes against the back of the chair and she doesn't watch around to look for her this time; she knows that the sooner she's over with biology, the better she is going to work on her next conquest. These are her plans for the day. She can't come down to having only eight days and not even a closer contact with her.

This time, it takes a little longer for her coffee to be brought to her, so that when the cup gets leant on the table, Santana startles with surprise.

"Did I scare you?" Brittany asks. "I know what it feels like. Once a horse cut my walk while I was following a butterfly, and it wasn't even a unicorn; that's sad and it scared me."

Santana laughs instinctively, thinking that it must be some joke. Then she shakes her head to reassure her.

"No, seriously," she answers, already wrapping her fingers around the cup, "You didn't scare me. I was just too focused and got surprised. A good café latte might fix it though."

"I hope it works," Brittany says, "I'm done in another half-hour, and I can't bring you another coffee until the clock-arm finishes another rotation; so I hope this one wins."

"Well, if it doesn't, we're having a coffee together when you're done." Santana answers, winking. "So you've got another chance for today."

"Let's try this one first. Maybe I'm lucky."

The adorable smile on those lips makes Santana hold back from telling her that she had drunk Cafe Latte before. She decides to pull the cup closer, until it brushes against her mouth.

"See you later then." Brittany says, probably because she's afraid of stopping too long to chat, and also because she doesn't want to risk catching a grimace over Santana's face as she tastes her café latte.

"See you later." Santana whispers and this time she's actually closing her mouth around the porcelain of the cup.

This time the flavor is good, not only because milk and coffee is a lovely blend but also because the sugar is just at the right dose. She swallows the drink down quickly, without wincing this time, and she puts the cut back on the table, going back to the book as she does.

She already knows the result of this test. She already likes Café Latte, but it's not enough to make her give up on her usual order. And yet, at least it's better of the thing Brittany made her taste before. Maybe it's thanks to the wonderful flavor, but the rest of the day is calm and relaxed for Santana. The next sixty minutes pass quickly, even though she's been studying hard. It's so true that a good coffee can changed your day, Santana is sure about it now. Maybe she could study at the Lima Bean every day. It doesn't seem that bad.

She looks over the counter in the exact moment the arm of the clock marks 6 o'clock.

Brittany comes out of the service door from behind the back of the guy working at the counter, holding an apron in her hands. She sees her run along the room until she enters another door (that's probably some small laundry or something) to come out of it a moment later, all fixed and smiling.

She walks between the tables until she reaches for the one Santana's sitting at and she sits down opposite to Santana.

"All yours." Brittany says with an innocent smile on her face (luckily though, because as far as Santana is concerned, she could take her words literally).

"I wouldn't say that." She answers, unable to hold it. "So, since now you've got some spare time, how about you tell me about yourself?"

"My name's Brittany Susan Pierce," she starts automatically, like it's instinctively, like she's introducing herself in front of her new classmates, "And … hey!" She suddenly stops, "Why should I do that first? Why don't you introduce yourself?" She asks, a little suspiciously, tightening her eyelids just slightly.

"Hmmm, because I asked first." Santana replies, shrugging lightly, to show her – fake – good intentions. "It's not like I want to do something bad to you, Brittany. Calm down. I just wanted to talk a little."

"Well, okay," She complains, lifting her chin. "I'll talk to you if you tell me who you are and introduce yourself first."

"Can I pay you a coffee?" Santana sighs, wondering what the hell she's going to go through to win this bet. "Then, I swear I'm going to introduce myself."

Brittany hesitates for a moment, unsure if accepting or not, but she gives up a moment later.

"A Frappuccino." She answers, with a grin. "And I want you to try that to. I still have to guess your new coffee order and you might like something denser."

Once more, Santana doesn't tell her that she's already tried Frappuccino before. She has to play her game if she wants to gain Brittany's sympathies. She calls the waiter that has shifted with her by lifting her arm. She tells him their orders in a moment.

"See? No problem." Santana says and she lifts her hands a little, to show her she doesn't have any hidden weapons. "Now that I've ordered, what do you need to know about me?"

"What's your name?" Brittany asks. "Full name, I mean." She adds, like it's clear that she can't just say her first name.

"Santana Lopez."

"Hmmm okay," Brittany wrinkles her lips thoughtfully, like she doesn't trust her. "Favorite color!"

"What?" Santana asks skeptically. It's one of the most banal questions ever. She would have expected it during auditions for a reality or something, not when she's trying to flirt with this girl. "Why should you want to know about my favorite color?" She asks, but Brittany seems totally comfortable with the topic.

"Because you can understand lots of things from someone's favorite color, especially if they answer honestly." She explains, while the boy that gave her the shift comes back and hands two Frappuccinos to put them on the table. Considering how fast he had taken to them, Santana suspects it's prefabricated. "It's like, essential information. One's favorite color tells more than someone's name. It should be on the documents."

"Why would that be?" Santana asks curiously.

"Because it's something _you_ get to choose." Brittany answers, "Actually, it's the color that chooses you. A name it's just something your parents give to you. How could you be represented from something you didn't even get the chance to choose?"

Santana thinks about it for a moment, deeply confused at her words. Anyway, she decides to go on with it once more, as she starts flipping her straw in the big glass.

"Red." She says and she stare as Brittany wrinkles her lips. "What? Is red bad news?" She asks and this time she's sincerely curious to know the answer.

"Not really." Brittany answers as she brings the straw to her face. "It's just that red is a very passionate color. It's the color of movement, of heat, of so many things and none of those just stay still like you're doing right now."

Santana smiles as she wraps her lips around the straw and sucks up the fresh drink to her mouth, enjoying the way the sweet taste of cacao mixed with cream hits her taste buds. She's about to answer, maybe to add something about how _passionate_ she can actually be, when she finds herself frozen.

Brittany is wrapping her pinks lips around the straw too and Santana forgets in a moment everything she's thought of before. Her predatory eyes trace every single feature of her face, from the blue eyes that are staring at her, waiting for an answer, to her cheeks hollowing everytime she sucks the Frappuccino and her mouth tightens around the strew.

Santana's fingers tighten around her own thigh, right where the material of her jeans fits like a second skin. She silently curses everybody who's in the Lima Bean right now, because she's feeling like she would just press this girl's body onto the table and win that bet she's almost forgot because the price seems too delicious to remember about the rest.

Brittany is still looking at her with curiosity, waiting for an answer, but Santana's got her mouth still wrapped around the straw and she's starting to bite it to contain her momentarily sexual frustration that comes from what's before her eyes; this girl looks so nasty and innocent at the same time, in a way Santana wouldn't have thought it was possible.

She's so caught up with her staring that she doesn't even notice she's lifting her glass just too much. She doesn't even realize the melted chocolate is sliding down the perfect cream, warming up the glass until it's falling from it.

Just when an icing drop collides with her chest, challenged by gravity, Santana startles, putting the glass back on the table and looking down to her own white shirt, suddenly stained with chocolate on her breast. She's about to lean and take a tissue when she sees that Brittany is already doing the same; so she stops.

She stares while Brittany gets closer to her, carrying her chair in the movement, and looks down. Santana doesn't know if it's actually good for this to happen now, especially when Brittany is already lifting her hand to move it slowly where the stain is enlarging slowly.

Santana startles when those long fingers press the tissue on her breast determinedly. Santana feels her body being immediately shaken with desire, which is probably making her eyes even darker if possible. She holds her breath, looking down at where she's almost touching her. Brittany's hand moves smoothly, like nothing bad is happening, and Santana finds herself having to press her legs together in a few seconds, as a warm wave runs through her body and she tries to breathe in and out slowly.

All of a sudden, the imagine she's been picturing in her head earlier becomes cleaner; she can see that perfect body pressed against the wood of the table, long and muscled legs wrapped around her waist, swollen lips from kissing harshly …

"Fixed it!" Brittany announces proudly, nodding at the spot where the stain was.

Santana shakes her head, trying to push the thought away and she looks down again, as she comes back to reality. The stain is still there of course, but it's not as dark as before and it doesn't seem like it can't be washed off at least. Not that she cares about the stain anyway, not by now.

"Thanks?" She asks, feeling her chest inflating awkwardly as she gets a little anxious. What is this feeling supposed to mean?

Santana usually doesn't wonder so much; indeed, she's pretty good with making _other people_ uncomfortable, and she barely knows how it is possible for the opposite to happen. And yet here it is and it messes with her head somehow. The thing itself that someone is making her this confuse with a mere touch – which is usually what she wants from a girl, _touching_ – scares her even. Why does it have to be so hard to win such a stupid bet?

"You're welcome." Brittany says easily and _damn_, Santana would want to see some trick in her eyes, something that might prove that Brittany did this on purpose, that she's just provoking; but that's not the case. There's nothing on her face. She looks innocent, she's grinning. That only makes it more frustrating. "So, you were … talking about yourself."

How the hell is she even supposed to keep on talking after such a thing? All of her body is trembling with desire, anxious to get in real life what she had already imagined.

"Hmm yeah," She finds herself murmuring like an idiot. Seriously, Santana would want to slap herself right now.

"Okay, so your favorite color is red." Brittany says again. "Cats or dogs?" She asks and Santana can't keep from rolling her eyes at the question. It's totally not what she would want to listen to now.

"I don't know. I can't stand animals, so I wouldn't choose anyway." She answers, shrugging, but then she notices the disappointed look over Brittany's face.

"You don't like animals?" She asks, looking skeptical, like it's not even possible.

"No. Well, it's not like I hate them." Santana tries to fix it. "I just I'm used to their company."

"Which kind of company do you prefer then?" Brittany asks immediately, barely giving Santana the time to take a breath. Santana has to keep from answering _The company of gorgeous girls like you_.

"Humans' I would say." She shrugs lightly.

"Humans aren't that nice." Brittany complains. "Animals are way more loyal and honest than human beings."

"No doubts." Santana answers. "It's just that human beings don't lose their hairs."

They look at each other for a moment and then they're both laughing.

"Well, it was an amazing afternoon." Brittany says, shrugging a little as Santana arches her eyebrows.

"Do you have to go already?" She asks confusedly.

"Yeah, I have to. Before Lord Tubbington takes advantage of my absence to read my diary." She smiles but she's already standing up. "But we can meet again tomorrow if you're okay with it. This week I'm going to have a shift every day because Valerie is sick and my delay costed me a harder schedule."

"Hmm," Santana forces herself not to make questions about who Lord Tubbington and Valerie might she's starting to feel way too curious. "See you tomorrow, then, I guess?" She murmurs unsure but Brittany nods.

"See you tomorrow!" She gestures with her hand and the turns away.

"Ah, Brittany!" Santana calls her name and Brittany turns to her with a questioning look on her face. "I'm still ordering mocha tomorrow."

Brittany grins, but her lively gaze makes Santana understand that she'll give it another try tomorrow.

/

She looks at her own picture in the mirror as she passes the hairbrush through her dark hair. The make-up is perfect, and the tight red dress fits her curves amazingly. She shakes her head to give her wavy hair a rebel look which still looks sober somehow before she walks out of her personal bathroom. There's something that is making her anxious. It's probably the fact that she's feeling the hardest desire she's ever felt because of that girl. It's frustrating and it makes her fill like naïve – and she's not: usually, even if she feels needy, Santana is able to control her desires. This time it has been way too hard for her to do so.

Therefore, while she's walking out her place, tonight, walking along the small path that bringer to the sidewalk, where Sebastian's car is parked, Santana has got one aim: to prove herself that nothing has changed. Just like every single time, she'd just felt an attraction to a body, not to the person itself. So it wasn't about Brittany, but just about Santana's need for sex which hasn't been fulfilled too well lately.

Knowing that she's going to prove it easily to herself, she opens the car door and enters the car, smiling to Quinn, already sitting beside the window.

"Someone needs to recover tonight?" Sebastian asks, looking at her through the rearview window. "Are you trying to give some decency to your sexual life since you're going to fail with the blondie?" He asks smirking, but Santana just sighs, willing to ignore him.

"Can I borrow your eyeliner, Q?" Kurt groans from his front seat as he's almost _laid_ beside Sebastian.

"Ouch." Sebastian says, while Quinn hands her pencil to him and Kurt leans to take it. "Someone is trying to look too sexy tonight …"

"Like that might be useful." Quinn sniggers and Sebastian turns the engine on as he frowns a little.

"What is that supposed to mean, Q?" He asks, looking to Kurt who's lowering the rearview mirror.

"There's no need to look sexy to get in your pants." Santana cuts, rolling her eyes and passing a hand through her hair. "All it takes it to breathe."

"You know that's not true." Sebastian complains ironically, but Santana is already looking out of the window, letting the conversation drop.

She spends the entire trip in the car looking at the road outside the window. She tries with all of herself to push away the sense of anxiety that is invading her who knows why and she prefers letting go. It's just a friendly night and she doesn't want to screw it, not matter which is the reason for it; not to mention for something she doesn't even know yet.

She lets her whole body relax against the seat.

Nothing is going to be wrong tonight, she won't let it happen. There's something weird in the air, something that is changing and that she doesn't want to change though. She wants everything to go back to normality, to when she was anxious to go out with her friends because she knew Quinn and she would fight over who wins more hook-ups.

She wants to be Santana Lopez again because she didn't even understand when she started changing and what she's changing exactly.

She wants to go back to enjoy every single moment of her life like she's done until two days ago.

Santana is going to rock her own world tonight.


End file.
